


Pure

by seratonation



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-05
Updated: 2008-05-05
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seratonation/pseuds/seratonation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There is a moment, just one moment, when a person loses control.</i>
  <b></b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pure

There is a moment, just one moment, when a person loses control, where they actually do forget everything, except for the feeling of pure ecstasy bursting through their veins.

 

To witness that one moment in anyone was beautiful. To witness it in John Sheppard was incomparable to anything Rodney has ever seen, including the thrill of watching the Stargate dial and connect for the first time, walking in to Atlantis and the sheer wonder that was space travel.

 

As he watched John sleep, Rodney thought it was probably because John was so in control, so unshakable, that when he lost his grip on reality it was a shock to the system. The fact that it was Rodney that got John to this place just added to the wonder of the whole thing.

 

And it never got boring, Rodney never tired of seeing John close his eyes and throw his head back. You might wonder, why him? Why is John so special? Wouldn’t it be the same with anyone who was always in control? Wouldn’t watching them lose grip be just as beautiful? Just as wonderful?

 

No. See John would reach that spot so reluctantly, he’d hold on till he couldn’t any more. Once he did, it was total bliss for him, he’d let go so completely and so fully that you couldn’t help but let go yourself. He’d gasp in surprise and push his head back in to the pillow, revealing his long slender neck. A moan would start deep in his throat and grow. His hands would scrabble at whatever was closest, the sheets or Rodney’s hips, leaving angry red scratches in their wake. His feet would slip on the mattress as they try to get purchase because he wants more, deeper, please, but by now he’d be too far gone to be anywhere near co-ordinated. His skin would be glistening with sweat, hot to the touch as if struck with fever and then, all too soon, it would be over, he’d collapse against the sheets and knowledge would flood back. 

 

But Rodney cherishes that one moment when, for once, John Sheppard was nothing more and nothing less than completely out of control.


End file.
